4/24/2007

Well hello there.

Just got back from a Ted-filled night sponsored by General Tso, Target, and Myspace.

So far, my week is going rather well, minus the fact that on Sunday, after pulling in my driveway and back from the grocery store, Brian has to immediately open the back of the jeep, thus freeing all of my golden delicious apples into the street. I'm talking a week's supply, rolling down 199th Street.

Other than that, it's been like a monsoon here. In a perfect world, it would rain every day, but let me share some internet findings that will probably, most definitely find their way into my house in the next .6 seconds.





Every dang thing is from Anthopologie, with the exception of that delish iron couch which is from Wisteria.
And seriously, put it all in my mouth. It is that lovely.

Moving on, Thursday, I participated in my first league game of sand volleyball with my Philip Morris teammates.
Let's just say I kicked ace. And the next morning, my body felt like it had been in a car accident.
Oh look! Here's me in a fit of sand domination. Blood makes the sand shine, KILL KILL KILL.

Scratch that, she kind of looks like her arms are ape-ish and too long for her body. Like she could walk on her fists. But points for the belly chain.

So then I started looking up volleyball pictures that you might really think were me and I could secretly fool you with my rock hard tasty abs and olympic ability.
And then I found things like this:

I don't know if this represents men's or women's sand volleyball.
And you all know me. If I aquired a tan of that magnitude, I'd have stage four skin cancer.

And then I found this one:

I mean, did you even know they had a volleyball team? Day-um. Two points for the camel toe.
Get your volleyball on, girl.

So, yeah, that's all I've got. I'm spent. I don't sleep good when Brizzy Sizz is not in the building.
The Disney Channel remains on all night for consistency, and I probably clock 1.5 hours of sleepy per night.

I'm gonna go shower off this Chinese food and pour myself a glass of lemonade.
Night!

4/18/2007

There's no one in town I know
You gave us some place to go.
I never said thank you for that.
I thought I might get one more chance.
What would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
I never said thank you for that,
now I'll never have a chance.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
So what would you think of me now,
so lucky, so strong, so proud?
May angels lead you in.
And if you were with me tonight,
I'd sing to you just one more time.
A song for a heart so big,
god wouldn't let it live.
May angels lead you in.
Hear you me my friends.
On sleepless roads the sleepless go.
May angels lead you in.
*hear you me :: jimmy eat world

Been taking some time to think about what's happened at Virgina Tech. What a horrible, horrible thing. Asking WHY such a sick person could do this. Thinking about how I went to college. How my sisters are in college. How it shouldn't, but it could happen to any one of us. And how much those families must be hurting. I just keep thinking how lucky I am to have the ones I have in my life. Take some time to put some things into perspective. We are lucky. Say I love you. Pray.

Otherwise, the week has been piping right along. I'm in the process of painting all of our house trim, white. And might I say it looks so delish. Also, I've been running every single day this week. Nevermind that the house builder-men that I run past probably think I'm having a heart attack every time I pass by, I'm still proud. And I haven't had a pop in 3 weeks. I mean, no afternoon mountain dews. That's so hardcore. What I wouldn't give to lick a sweet ice cube that has swam in the cup of a soda. But NO. That kind of stuff doesn't help with the foot speed.

Yessss.. the Bulls intro song just came on my iTunes. Blog posting is so intense when you do it to this song.

So, Sunday, Brian and I, I mean, I.. mowed the lawn. We recently purchased an awes John Deere push mower. Because nothing runs like a deer. And because I mow the lawn with the speed of a deer.


You have got to understand here, that mowing the lawn is like one of my top favorite things to do. I don't need your comments, it's just that I enjoy the clean lines and the sense of accomplishment. In high school, I even mowed heather pashman's lawn so that her mom would let her leave and we could hang out and talk German and stuff.

So, while I was mowing and OWNING THAT LAWN, Brian got out our new weedwacker to do the trimming around the house. So while I was jogging around the lawn, Brian was battling this long stick machine that he kept raising in the air really high for some reason. Brian is convinced that it was the sheer power of this beast, but I kind of think he's retarded. Because he wore goggles.

During his short stint as an edger, Brian managed to cut some wires along the fence clean in half, weedwhack the house, and start a small fire in the grass. We just tell people now that the invisible dog fence has been temporarily disconnected. And he couldn't stop giggling like a little boy the entire time. Fine. Giggle away, but don't go chopping my precious cable cord in two or you better find a new wife.

Sweet! Doorbell just wrang and it was a package from Mom.
Sue got all of the girls a Vera Bradley tote/purse in honor of spring. What an awes surprise! You go mom.

4/11/2007

(My 400th post God I'm a pathetic loser.)

Ah, does anyone know who this is?

Yeah, well, I'll give you a clue. It's me.

See, for Easter, we went to a St. Louis playground of dreams and an elderly man that told me he and his wife left Hot Springs Arkansas because it didn't have up-to-date medicine was drawing pictures over in the corner. So he drew one of me because I couldn't resist the fact that he alternated between the sharpie and the whiteout pen.

Actually, I think he made me look like a primate with big lips.

But the important thing is...is that I'm back. Back and ready to attack. I actually said that to my Publisher. Literally. The thing is, all this time when I wasn't blogging, it was because I took on another job that sucked me dry from 8am to 2 in the morning every single day and definitely weekends. I took on an additional magazine for someone who was on maternity leave. I am proud of myself for doing it. And that's all. Because I don't blog about work on here.
So suck it.

So, God, there is a lot to catch you all up on. It was kind of freaky hearing from random people asking when my next blog post was going to be. Like my third grade teacher, Scott, and the minister of our church. I'm messing with you.

I was going to blog last night but some stomach issues prevented me from doing so. And I'm not going to name names here. So bear with me, because I've got some great stuff that I have been waiting to tell you about.
Waiting until I had the time.

First of all, I think it was February or March, and Omaha was hit with a blizzard. Like Frosty took a dump on the whole city. I was born in Green Bay, lived in Chicago, and been to the mountains, but seriously, never seen this much snow. It never stopped. And I was home alone with a camera and a dream.

We're technically not within the Omaha city limits, since we live in a cornfield (I'm serious, come visit.) so we don't get the plow. I was stuck in the house for 5 days with a bag of bagels and no visits from the UPS man.

This is a picture out the door. I don't think you can really grasp this. Out the door, the snow was up to my WAIST.
I just think that's so cool.

But what was not cool was trying to shovel because all of our stupid neighbors were apparently in a snow shoveling competition. I AM A GIRL. Thank God for North Face and the nice neighbor man that snowblew the entire driveway once he realized that I might not even get a patch the size of a hamburger shoveled before all the snow had melted and it was September.

The next thing I'd like to talk about is how my sister Laura turned 21 and I was in Lawrence representin' and holding her hair back while she tossed cookies.

We started off at El Mez where Laura made quick friends with the Mexican waiters. Ten seconds later, she's topless and covered in salsa. Probably my most proudest moment? Having her sign her free polaroid: Laura "Hit it and Quit it" Hall. Yep. Dad's gonna be proud to see that hanging on the wall if he ever dines there.

Steph and Jas Face Coledaddy were there:


And so were four of Jason's best friends:


But seriously. We painted the town. In comfortable T-Shirts and me, pre-hair cut. We asked girls where they got their shirts even though we couldn't fit into them in our dreams. There were some shimmy shakes. We danced at the Tai House where two weeks later someone was shot. Jason reached his legal limit. Laura even humped a DJ.






Laura did it right. And by that, I mean my hair.

Right before we hit the dance floor. HARD.

Let's face it, friends. I'm not a freakdancer anymore.

Now we'll move on to St. Patrick's Day. I'm not Irish.
Laura and Robair came into town for Spring Break 2007. It was WILD.


Seriously, me and Laura could have fun in a cardboard box. We crack each other up and we're basically the same person. Except she favors doughnuts, where I'm more of the cheeseburger type. We took the lovebirds downtown to Old Market, made various assortments of puppy chow and rice krispie treats, and even went to the local mall because Robert just HAD to have a new pair of leather moccasians.

So while me and the kids searched for Robert's footwear, here's Brian. Pissed because he hates all shopping malls. And probably because we also stopped to put a quarter in the fortune teller machine and that added a total of 2 more minutes that he had to spend inside his personal hell.

But that's cool. Because when we got home, I totally made up for it, with THIS move:

But let's get to the good stuff. Paying 10 bucks a person to enter a freezing cold tent on green day.
But memories we were making and big booties we were shaking. Laura was particularly excited:

Hottie Rob was maybe not in the partying mood, so Laura worked her magic:

God, GET A ROOM YOU TWO!

So we danced to the house band, Taxi Driver. Nice band name, freaks. They were basically a bunch of moms that partook in wayyyyy too many adult beverages. But they sang some good covers and made me lose my hearing in one ear. Laura and I even made our way on the stage during their Grease MEGAMIX.
Definitley something I'm going to put on my resume'.


Besides the 35 year old deaf guy with braces and a glow stick in his mouth,
let's talk about who we met and will remember forever, shall we?

1.) Dennis. We didn't know his name, but I'll be damned if he doesn't look like a Dennis.


Dennis was a total romancer. A ladies man. He gave me some of his beads and I think he wanted to take me in the backseat of his car. Laura was also mesmerized with this man and his faded teal sweater. He wouldn't leave us alone in a creepy grampa sort of way, despite the fact that we had a husband and 7 foot Asian about 2 inches away from us at all times.

2.) In keeping with the elderly theme, Freaknasty old couple.



These two were found inside, on the dance floor AT ALL TIMES. They would gravitate toward innocent people on the dancefloor. We hopped in and I think I got back-humped by the old guy. Laura, did you dance with his old wife while this was happening? Because don't leave her out. She was looking at her humping husband like he was so kind for scooting his nasty ass into young innocent victims. It was funny for awhile, ok, but then I think the granny got mad and wanted the man meat for herself.

3.) Best for Last: Lynn.

We had his name confirmed by, I believe, the cops. He was stationed the whole night at a standing table filled with, oh, easily 73 beer cans. Which I'm pretty sure he drank all by his proud self. Oh Lynn..he was a man of few words. Probably because I've never seen a man so wasted on this Earth. He originally caught my eye when I saw that he was talking to the beer cans. More like lightly whispering. Then he would stumble around in place.
Then someone would pay him a dollar to throw up.

Then the party started and I think Lynn was about two seconds away from showering the tent with food he ate two days ago. He was standing at his table and he would get all mad and just mutter the F word and look at the cans like they were giving him extra homework or something. Then his cheeks would fill and by God, one finger went up to his mouth to push it all back in. I bet this routine happened like a thousand times before he begin spitting on the ground and the cops probably took him home, but at least took a picture with him first.

God knows if they're still alive, well at least Dennis is probably, but they sure did enrich our lives for the better.
And probably the sole reason that Laura wants to ever come back to visit Omaha again.



And that brings us up to speed to the Easter weekend. We were summoned to St. Louis for a weekend of the container store, ribs, and the Lord. Oh, and we spent every waking moment playing guitar hero II on Xbox 360. Basically the reason why I was put on this Earth.


Notice in this picture how my eyes are bleeding lazer juice as I strum every chord to "Cherry Pie". I was well on my way to a perfect score, until I put my hands up in the air and started an above-the-head-clap during what I thought was a nice little break. Turns out, the notes started coming again and I totally messed up the rest of the song.

While in STL, Brian's sisterista took us this Children's Museum downtown.
Which is apparently Japanese for large, wire playground that makes me want to poop my pants.


Seriously. If I had the body of an 8 year old, I would be all over this place. You can literally climb anywhere and into anything. It's dark and iron and basically an accident waiting to happen. And I couldn't stop thinking about how you could totally hide in one of the compartments and like live there for the rest of your life. No one would know when you they shut the lights off at night that you were still there.


But see Brian in the picture above, here is where I talk about how I kind of wish that I would have brought kneepads and worn my stretchy pants. Some of the areas are so tight, you literally probably shouldn't be squeezing your adult body in those places. I think the thing that killed me was the outside part. That part of the playground went up to 8 stories tall. See these crazies climbing in the little slinky airborne pathways.
I mean, I hope to God you don't get stuck.


Not me man. We went up a ways and I kind of started freaking out about how you could see through straight to the ground. You're just walking on a few iron beams. And that to me, doesn't scream safety.



So, we went down to see their aqarium that we paid an extra 10 dollars to tour. Would I do it again, probably not.
It looked like they whipped up the aqarium while we were purchasing the tickets.



We also played around inside. These were the big daddy slides.
The big daddy slides that kind of looked like you were inside the Death Star.

Brian was calling me a dummy because I didn't really feel like sliding to my death. You had no idea where the slide went, it was completely dark, and pee was coming down the side of my leg. So his sister went down, and I didn't want to be last so some molester could have his way with me, so I gripped it and ripped it. Problem is, I have been wearing the exact same pair of shoes since Freshman year of college. So we're talking no tread on the bottom of my shoes. No breaks, so, I am hanging on to the top of the caged ceiling as I am sliding down faster than shit. I seriously thought I was going to die. And because I was grabbing onto the bars of the ceiling, you could hear my wedding ring clink and scrape all the way down. Probably not a good thing for the ring.


So that's it. We're in the present day now. Hope you enjoyed the long post. I now need an eye transplant and finger surgery. If you're reading this, leave me a little love in that comment box. It's like my only reward, in addition to when I pull Brian out of his office and make him read this entire thing out loud while I laugh so hard as I sit on his lap. I do that with every single post. That's why I married him. For that, and the forest of hair that he has on his chest.